When Joe Torre turned down a contract that would have seen him return as the New York Yankees' manager for another year, the world of American sports was blown wide open. ESPN ignored the night's upcoming American League Champion Series game (not to mention the minor occurrence of the Rugby World Cup final two days later) and instead aired more than two hours of special reports on Torre's departure from the team. The papers the next day had headlines splashed across sports and general news sections revelling in the latest smash hit in sports media.

When Jose Mourinho left Chelsea in the middle of the Premier League season, the world of British sports was no different. Websites and papers were full of reports and speculation about the Portuguese's departure.

It's the same principle, really. One of the most successful coaches in his sport leaves his team in the midst of controversy with the owner (though substantially more unexpectedly in Mourinho's case), and fans of the sport are left with countless questions on where the team will turn next.

And yet in the States, my sputtering surprise in response to Mourinho's departure was met with, "Wait ... Marino? Like, Dan Marino?" No. No, not Dan Marino, ex-quarterback of the Miami Dolphins. Mourinho. The Special One. The winningest coach in the history of one of the winningest teams in the Premier League.

But no one here has a clue - the same way most Brits across the ocean couldn't care less who manages the Yankees. And it makes me wonder why the "pond" that is the Atlantic Ocean often seems to be so much bigger than it is. With the wonders of digital and cable TV and a little thing called the internet, there is no reason transatlantic sports shouldn't be able to catch on across the water.

And yet on this side of the great divide, ESPN plays between only two and four Champions League matches a month but spends an hour every weekday on NASCAR recaps. The BBC website's coverage of American sports is limited to an article on the World Series and an update on the two gridiron teams that played in London on Sunday. A game that supposedly will change the face of gridiron around the world.

Broadcast in more than 200 countries and said to kick off a new era of American football in Europe, the game had quite a lot to live up to. Forgive me if I don't believe it for a second - does anyone else remember Becks' venture to America that was going to "change the face of soccer in the US"? There's something about transatlantic sport that just can't work.

At least for the Yanks, there's not enough scoring or commercial breaks in football, cricket is too long and tennis is just glorified ping-pong. Brits can't get over the incessant breaks in gridiron, and baseball's lengthy games don't offer the excitement of 90 minutes of football. And then there's the small little fact that both of us, as countries, are snobs. Footballers are "grass fairies" in America, and to the British, gridiron is full of men who aren't man enough to play rugby - try it sans pads, Tom Brady.

The traditions inherent in American football and baseball are as crucial to American culture as the obscene songs at football matches are to the British. While "Take Me Out To The Ball Game" differs slightly from "Who's That Team They Call The Arsenal" (a few less expletives, for example), the sentiment is the same. The University of North Carolina even adds a "Go to hell, Duke" after every rendition of its alma mater - expletives? Check.

But the different coasts just can't seem to capitalise on the better qualities of other sports for their own countries' games. And I personally don't know why. I love basketball and gridiron as much as the next ESPN-happy American, but I also live for the group stages of the Champions League, when games actually are on television a few times a week.

I've attended three NFL games. I've attended two Premier League games. I loved them all. The atmosphere at NFL games is overwhelming - thousands of people all cooking out in the parking lot, shouting obscenities at referees and sloshing beer down on unsuspecting spectators below them. But can it compare to Premier League games, where die-hard supporters chant in unison, don't touch their seats for 90 minutes and never let go of the dream of a victory?

There certainly are pluses and minuses for each sport. Each has its own unique characteristics and its own quirks that make it accessible on one continent or another. But the similarities are undeniable when looked at closely. And it seems silly that two countries with sports so crucial to their own identities can't share them with each other.